


Normal People

by annella



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26678125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annella/pseuds/annella
Summary: Laundry day is always a pain when you share a laundry with an entire building of people. Reno starts dragging his blood-stained whites to Rude’s place when he discovers his internal laundry.
Relationships: Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 54





	Normal People

The worst thing about the building where Reno lived was the shared laundries. Sometimes a Turk had to do some pretty nasty things, and nasty things tended to involve blood. Reno had lost count of the number of times he’d gotten home from a long, hard day at work and, instead of flopping down on his bed, he had to lug a basket of blood-stained clothes down to the basement to put them in to soak overnight, and then go back the next morning to put them through a wash cycle in the shitty old machines. More often than not, the lift wasn’t working, and that was five flights of stairs that he really didn’t want to have to take.

But blood left to dry on clothes overnight tended to stay on clothes forever, and Reno was too fond of his somewhat modified Turks uniform to let it be ruined by a bit of blood. So every time he had a day which involved anything more than paperwork, he spent his evening trudging down to the laundry and soaking blood out of his nice white shirts.

The first time he spent the night at Rude’s—after several weeks of _stress relief_ at whatever moment they could steal during the day—he was surprised to find out that his partner had his very own laundry. Inside his apartment. The _luxury_ of it astounded Reno. Not that Rude had to worry quite so much about bloodstains, with his penchant for dark shirts.

“You know, you could probably afford to move to a place with an internal laundry,” Rude said as he made Reno a cup of coffee the next morning. Rude even had a fancy coffee machine, not like Reno’s shitty coffee plunger. There was a _hiss_ as Rude frothed the milk before pouring it into the shot of espresso, and Reno let out an indecent moan as he took the first sip.

“Moving is a _bitch,”_ Reno griped. Rude had a point, though. The last time he’d done laundry, an old lady from the floor above him had come in as he was trying to scrub a particularly large bloodstain from his favourite shirt. It probably hadn’t helped that Reno had only been wearing briefs and was swearing up a storm, and she’d nearly fainted on the spot. A thought occurred to him, and he cleared his throat.

“I could, uh. I could use yours.”

Rude glanced at him from over his glasses. “You’re welcome to,” he replied, before turning back to the coffee machine to make his own cup.

  
  
Reno took him at his word, and when he showed up the next evening with a basket of clothes perched on his hip, Rude rolled his eyes and let him in. He headed straight for the laundry, dumping his red-streaked whites in the sink before filling it with cold water and a sprinkle of detergent to let it soak overnight.

The rest of the evening was spent getting to know various different surfaces in Rude’s apartment and testing their solidity—the small dining table, the couch, the countertop in the bathroom—and Reno was pleasantly sore by the time they finally made it to bed. He woke in the morning to find the other side of the bed empty, and groaned as he rolled over into Rude’s spot. The pillow smelled like him, and Reno buried his face in it and inhaled deeply. His ass still ached a bit, and he considered staying in bed, but the smell of freshly made coffee dragged him out. 

He emerged a few minutes later wearing his underwear from last night—his laundry day underwear, he had to admit, a little tighter than usual and sitting extremely low on his hips—and one of Rude’s shirts, a few buttons done up but mostly open. It hung loose on him, as he had hoped, and had the clean, fresh smell of Rude’s fabric softener. 

“How many chocobos do you think they grind up for each bottle of that fabric softener you like so much?” he called out as he padded on bare feet towards the kitchen, the wooden floors cool against his soles. There was a steaming mug of coffee on the breakfast bar, and he picked it up and took a long drink. He wondered why it had taken him so long to realise that Rude was the perfect match for him, and ambled towards the laundry, mug in hand, where he could hear the sounds of water sloshing.

“They don’t use _actual_ chocobos,” Rude said, his voice rich with amusement. Reno leaned against the laundry door and admired the tall, muscular man in front of him. Rude was only wearing a pair of sweatpants, slung low on his hips, and Reno happily ogled the firm musculature of Rude’s back as he stirred Reno’s white shirts around in the sink. Reno sipped his coffee and tilted his head, enjoying the play of muscles as Rude opened up the washing machine and piled the sodden mass of clothing inside.

“Doing my laundry,” Reno said, stepping up behind Rude and running a hand down his back. “Very sexy. Very domestic.” He put his coffee cup down and rested his hands on Rude’s hips before pressing his forehead against his broad back and kissing the warm, soft skin.

Rude turned and planted his cold, wet hands on Reno’s ass, ignoring his shriek and dragging his hands up under the loose shirt. Reno squirmed in his grasp, complaining all the while, but his gripes were muffled by Rude pressing their mouths together in a warm kiss.

“Good morning to you, too,” he said, squeezing Reno’s ass again before hoisting him up into his arms. Reno forgot about the cold-hands-on-his-ass incident immediately and wrapped his limbs around Rude, happily kissing him back.

Behind them, the washing machine started to churn, and Reno pulled away to give Rude a wide grin. “Fancy testing out the strength of your machine?” he asked, and Rude grinned right back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> For bugyork on twitter. :)
> 
> Follow me on twitter, I’m sherribon. I post a lot of Turks stuff.


End file.
